


Watch The World Go By

by octopodium



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: AU, Author Projects A Lot, BAMF Vanya Hargreeves, Canon Non-Binary Character, Demiboy Ben Hargreeves, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Luther Being Less of an Asshole, No Commission, Non-Binary Klaus Hargreeves, Nonbinary Character, Not Beta Read, Still An Asshole, Trans Diego Hargreeves, Trans Male Character, Young Five Hargreeves, and they sure as heck will project that onto their writing, because author's relationship with gender, but like, demigender character, did i mention author projects a lot?, i don't make the rules, is a burning dumpster fire, let five say fuck, look if you have an eldritch monster portal inside of your stomach you legally can't be cis, the archive made me split up that tag it was too long, why is that not a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-03-04 22:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18822265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopodium/pseuds/octopodium
Summary: Five collapses onto the remains of concrete steps and grips his head in his hands.He’s alone.+Or there is no Commission, and Five finds his way back home much sooner than he could have.++This fic is being rewritten+





	1. Five

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from [this Hozier lyric generator](http://generatorland.com/usergenerator.aspx?id=22501) so just Hozier lyrics basically 
> 
> This has been done before, but I wanted to write it so now you get to read it! Congratulations to you! Leave a comment, if you end up reading through the whole thing, I wanna know what you think :) 
> 
> This won't have a specific update schedule, but I was thinking I could update around the weekend. So Fridays through Sundays updates should arrive. 
> 
> Now fly! Read! Be free!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He looks at the wreckage surrounding him. There are patches of the ground and what used to be buildings on fire, orange flames burning away at the remains of life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Word Count: 1126
> 
> Ah yes, putting five through stuff™.

+

He looks at the wreckage surrounding him. There are patches of the ground and what used to be buildings on fire, orange flames burning away at the remains of life.

He turns in a circle, gaping at the everything around him. At the _nothing_ around him. He clenches his fists, pulling the blue deep inside him out to the surface. Nothing happens. The portal appears, but it’s solid. It pushes Five away and deeper into the rubble.

Five stumbles backward and shuts off the blue. He turns around and runs. He ignores the pain in his ankle as he trips over a stray rock, and runs until he skids to a stop in front of the Academy.

What used to be the Academy. Now there’s nothing but a doorway and a stone pillar attached to nothing. The umbrellas on the door are distorted, like the glass melted a little with immense heat.

“Vanya!” Five screams. “Ben! Klaus! Diego!”

His voice doesn’t echo back to him. Without his shouting, it’s silent other than the crackling of the flames. “Luther! Allison!”

Nothing. He hears nothing. “Pogo?” Five’s throat tightens around his words. “Grace?”

He doesn’t bother calling Reginald’s name. Five collapses onto the remains of concrete steps and grips his head in his hands.

He’s alone.

+

Five has been living in the apocalypse for three months and sixteen days, give or take. Although it was less living, more doing whatever it takes to survive. If he ever finds a way to get back home, he’s going to find whoever came up with that stupid rumor that Twinkies have a limitless shelf life and throw them into the goddamn ocean.

The sun is hot on the back of his neck. Delores is silent in the wagon as the two move through rubble and debris and ashes and dust.

Sometimes, he wakes up in the morning and it all feels like it’s just a dream. Some twisted, fucked up nightmare straight from the depths of hell, tearing into his lungs and suffocating him until the life fades from his body.

If only.

“Why did you stop walking?” Delores’s voice sounds from behind him.

Five looks around, pulling himself from his thoughts. She’s right, of course. He’s stopped moving. “Sorry Delores, just zoned out for a bit. 

Delores huffs. “Well stop it. We don’t know what kind of dangers are out there, okay?”

_None. There are no dangers out there, because everything is dead. It’s gone. All gone._

“You’re right,” Five says. “Let’s keep moving.”

They walk until the sun has set and the stars are high up in the sky. The landscape hasn’t changed.

+

Eight months. It’s been eight months of scavenging for food and water. Eight months of wondering why everything happened the way it did. Eight months of not talking to anybody but himself and Delores.

It’s only after these eight months that he finds a book.

The cover is a picture of a young girl with her hair framing her face. It’s printed in plain monochrome browns. In big white letters, the title proclaims, “EXTRA ORDINARY,” and under that in a smaller font, “My life as number seven.”

Five flips it open to the dedication page.

 

_Dad,_

_I figured, why not?_

_V._

 

He reads it all.

+

He has to admit, the book is written well. It’s not something that should have ever been written, but it’s written well. The words really weave together to show just what life was like for Vanya. For Seven.

Five doesn’t hate her for it. He’s upset, sure, and definitely annoyed. But he can see why she would write something like that, after years of being alone.

Just Vanya, her longing, and her violin.

Five stops himself from glancing at Delores.

+

They make the decision to stick around near the library. Or what’s left of it. It’s one of the most intact buildings Five has seen so far, but even then it’s falling apart.

He reads everything he can find. Everything that isn’t burnt to the point of crumbling into pieces as he picks it up. Novels, comics, poetry, biographies. He gets his hands on a book about time travel.

He hasn’t really realized it before, but he’s never actively tried to get back. He tried the first couple weeks, and then he just… stopped. He became resigned to his fate.

But the book? It flips what’s left of his world upside down.

Five pushes himself off the ground and looks down at unmoving his companion.

“Delores, I’m going to get us back to my family.”

+

Five tries not to think about the bodies, but sometimes he wakes up screaming in the middle of the night with nobody but Delores around to hear him.

+

It has been roughly one and a half years since he traveled to the apocalypse. Seven months since he started working on the math to get home.

It’s been at least four days since he slept.

Delores keeps nagging him for it, saying that if he collapses from exhaustion it would just push back their progress. He ignores her. He’s close.

It’s always about how he’s _so close,_ just on the edge of figuring out how to get back, how to see Ben and Klaus and Diego and Vanya and Allison and even Luther again.

Even Mom. Christ, he even misses _Mom._ And he’s never really felt close to her. He never thought he could feel close to a robot.

That night, after listening to Delores chew him out for forgetting to eat again, he figures out another thread to his net of equations.

+

“I’m going to have to leave you.” Five keeps his gaze on the ground. “When I go back, I won’t be able to take you with me.”

Delores places a comforting hand on Five’s shoulder. “It’s okay. You need to get back to them.”

“You aren’t mad?” His voice comes out weaker than he’s ever allowed it to. He sounds like he’s thirteen again.

He isn’t. He’s been through so much, things that most people couldn’t even imagine. He isn’t a kid anymore.

“I’m not.” Delores sounds like she’s smiling a sad smile. “I get it. It’s just what you have to do.”

Five raises his head to see Delores’s eyes still as stone.

+

A month later, standing where the yard of the Academy used to be is when everything is blue. He’s surrounded by it. He can feel his power thrumming under his skin, begging to be let out.

He concentrates and pulls it out of himself into the air around him. The blue intensifies, momentarily blinding him. He can hear Delores in the back of his mind, telling him that it’s what he has to do.

Five gathers up his strength and _pushes._

+

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sirens blaring: early update! It's an early update buckle your seat belts!
> 
> leave a comment if you liked the chapter! :-) 
> 
> rebloggable version [here](https://seven-misfits.tumblr.com/post/184863878467/watch-the-world-go-by-chapter-1)


	2. Vanya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Vanya sees the news on a TV screen in a store window, there’s a moment where she thinks she’s hallucinating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: I'll be updating on weekends :)  
> also me: psst it's Friday you hAVe To UpDAte
> 
> you're getting an early update suck it
> 
> Chapter Word Count: 1689

When Vanya sees the news on a TV screen in a store window, there’s a moment where she thinks she’s hallucinating.

Dad can’t be dead. He can’t be, because he’s too horrible to die. Him dying would just make Vanya’s life that much easier, take some amount of weight off of her shoulders.

So no, he can’t be dead.

He is.

+

Vanya unlocks the door to her apartment slowly, like she’s afraid of disturbing the quiet. She walks inside and puts her violin onto the kitchen counter. Normally she would keep walking until she’s in front of the fridge, and then she would make herself something to eat.

Not today. Today, she turns around and stumbles in the other direction, flopping onto her couch. She can feel the anxiety coiling inside of her, threatening to reach a slimy tentacle out and twist it around her throat.

Breathe. She starts listing off facts, things that she knows are true, because she doesn’t want to swallow a pill just yet.

Her name is Vanya Hargreeves, she is thirty years old. She has brown hair and brown eyes, and she plays the violin. She’s the third chair in the orchestra at the Icarus Theatre, and she lives alone.

And Reginald Hargreeves is dead.

Her breathing speeds up. It hits her like a truck. Oh god, he’s really dead. He’s gone, she’ll never have to see him again. Vaguely, Vanya realizes that this is change. It’s a change that shouldn’t be big because she hasn’t been living in that house with him for nearly a decade.

Yet somehow, it's huge.

She reaches into her pocket and takes out her pill bottle. The cap pops open, and seconds later, she can already feel herself calming down.

She’s going to be fine.

+

Vanya stands in front of the Academy. She hasn’t been here in more than a decade, and somehow nothing has changed. It’s the same huge building with the same front gate and the same windows and curtains.

She pushes open the gate and makes her way to the front door. The key that she has kept all these years is cold in her hand.

“Okay,” she whispers to herself. “I’m going in.”

The key gets stuck halfway through opening the lock. She has to twist it with much more force than she's used to. The lock clicks, and the door swings open.

Vanya steps inside the house.

She’s nearly forgotten just how big and empty this place is. She’s never been tall, but right now she feels like a child, taking in the huge space around her.

“Vanya! You’re here,” Allison’s voice echoes from behind her. Vanya turns around to meet her sister’s eyes.

“Yeah. I know I probably shouldn’t-”

“No, I’m glad to see you,” Allison cuts her off. She pulls Vanya into a tight hug. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Vanya is just about to hug back when another voice sounds from the stairwell. “Seriously, Allison? After what she’s done?”

Allison huffs and pulls away from Vanya. She turns towards Diego, crossing her arms like she did when they were fifteen. “Really? You’re doing this now? She’s our sister, Diego, she has every right to be here.”

“No, he’s right, I should probably leave.”

Allison turns her head back to Vanya. “No. We want you here, Vanya. Don’t listen to him.” She turns back to Diego. “Way to dress for the occasion, by the way. Gold star.”

Diego adjusts the leather harness he’s wearing. The two knives in the holster on his back glint in the light. “At least I’m wearing black.”

"Oh, haha. Very funny," Allison calls after him as he climbs up the stairs. “Really. You should become a comedian.” Diego doesn’t answer.

+

Vanya stops in front of the massive bookshelf. It’s been here as long as she can remember. She reaches up and brushes her hand across the spines of the books, taking in the texture. Her fingers stop at one certain title.

She gently grabs it and pulls it out.

Her face from when she was thirteen looks back at her, sad eyes almost hidden behind the bangs she used to wear her hair in.

She opens the book to the dedication.

Dad,

I figured, why not?

V.

“Miss Vanya,” breaks her out of her thoughts Pogo. “It’s good to see you.”

“Oh, uh, you too, Pogo.” Vanya closes the book and puts it back onto the shelf. “Do you know if… he ever read it?” She nods her head towards where the book is now.

Pogo solemnly shakes his head. “Not that I am aware of, no.”

Vanya sighs. Of course, she’d expected nothing less. But still. They turn away from the bookshelf. Vanya’s eyes land on Five’s portrait.

She’s never liked the stupid portrait. It made Five look different. More eccentric, with his eyes lidded a little too heavily and his hair a little too neat.

It barely looked like him.

“You want to know something stupid?” Vanya asks Pogo, her eyes still on the painting. “I used to leave the lights on for him. When he first disappeared. I left the lights on and even made those atrocious sandwiches.”

Pogo keeps his eyes on her, silently encouraging her to keep speaking.

“I thought that if he came back in the night, and saw that the lights were off he’d think we didn’t care. And he wouldn’t come back.” Vanya breaks her gaze from Five’s face. “Stupid, right?”

“Not at all. You were a child.”

Vanya huffs a breathy laugh. That’s the thing, right? They were all children. Children shouldn’t have to go through the things they did. And yet.

“Yeah. Thanks, Pogo.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Vanya. I suppose you would like to be present when the others discuss the details of your father’s burial, correct? I won’t keep you waiting any longer.”

Vanya nods at Pogo’s back as he ambles out of the room. She throws one last glance at Five’s portrait and walks out after him.

+

Vanya’s awkwardly squished into the corner of the couch, trying to distance herself from her siblings as much as possible. Luther and Diego are talking about Dad’s death or something like that.

Klaus walks in with a flourish and a glass of something alcoholic. The skirt he’s wearing makes a slight swishing noise as he strides in.

“Is that my skirt?” Allison says, incredulous.

“Oh, this?” Klaus glances down at it, as if he hadn’t known which skirt exactly he was wearing. “Ah, yeah, yeah it is. It’s very,” he twists his hips, “breathy on the bits.”

Allison rolls her eyes and doesn’t say anything more about it. Klaus prances over to where Vanya’s curled up on the couch and plops down next to her. He wiggles his fingers with a loose smile on his lips.

Vanya timidly waves back.

“Klaus,” Luther says. “I need you to summon Dad.”

“What?” Klaus nearly spits out his drink. He relaxes back to his original state a moment later. “Luther, my man, you know I can’t do that. I’m not in the right,” he waves the hand that isn’t holding his drink in the air. “State of mind.”

“You’re high.” Allison deadpans.

“Yeah! Yeah, that’s it!” Klaus nods in her direction with a smile.

Vanya zones out again after Diego and Luther reboot their arguing. After a minute or two of muffled sounds, she’s broken out of her daze.

“Are you serious?” Diego’s voice echoes, full of disbelief.

“No, that’s not what I-”

“Oh, I know what you meant, Number One!” Diego turns and spreads his arms, addressing the rest of the people in the room. “You think one of us killed Dad.”

Klaus presses his hand to his chest with a shocked gasp. “You think that?”

Luther’s silence is enough of an answer.

“You really do…” whispers Klaus. “Wow Luther, didn’t expect that from you! Well then I’ll be right back, just gotta kill Mom real quick! Don’t wait up!” Klaus pushes himself off the couch and stalks out of the room, knuckles white against his glass.

“Guys, I didn’t-” Luther cuts himself off. Nobody’s listening to him anymore. Vanya doesn’t move from her seat even after everybody’s gone.

+

They’re outside in the rain, standing in a semi-circle around Luther and the urn filled with Dad’s ashes. Pogo’s droning on about how he was a brilliant mind, my master and my friend. His death is… truly regretful.

Vanya lets her eyes wander over the faces surrounding her. There’s Luther, with his eyebrows pinched together, looking down at the ashes on the ground. Diego, a scowl on his face, and next to him is Mom, the same blank wide smile plastered on her face as always.

Allison, her face smoothed out and no expression visible on it. Klaus with his messy hair and eyeliner smeared onto his cheeks. He notices Vanya’s eyes on him and gives a manic smile and a wave. Ben’s statue. It doesn’t even look like him.

“Would anybody like to speak?” Nobody says anything. A moment of tense silence, then, “He was a monster. A bad person and a worse father. The world’s better off without him.”

“Diego!” Allison scolds him.

“My name is Number Two,” hisses Diego. “Do you know why? Because that fucker couldn’t even be bothered to give us names! Only numbers! That’s all we are. Tools for him to use as he pleases.”

“Shut up.” Luther clenches his fists.

“Would anybody like some cookies?” Mom tilts her head and smiles in the way that's always thrown Vanya off a little.

“No Mom, we’re fine.” Diego takes a deep breath. Vanya can see him restraining himself from fighting Luther.

“Guys-” Klaus interjects from where he’s standing. He doesn’t get to elaborate because suddenly everything is overcome by a storm of bright blue.

+

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeeeah boi you know it. I love vanya she's great.
> 
> I'm on tumblr @ seven-misfits


	3. Klaus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus doesn’t want to be here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmmm yeah i changed the update schedule to fridays - sundays because i keep getting impatient.
> 
> klaus is so fucking fun to write jesus christ i love that funky little medium
> 
> Chapter Word Count: 1385

+

Klaus doesn’t want to be here. Who would, honestly? But Ben insisted that it would be good for him to go, to see his family. And when Klaus still didn’t want to go he pulled the ‘i’m dead and I want to go, please do this for me Klaus’ card.

God, one day Ben wouldn’t be able to force him into (or out of) things with that.

But sadly, today is not that day, so here Klaus is, inside his dear ol’ Daddy-o’s fucking mansion.

Ugh. He needs a drink.

“Stop it,” Ben says when he sees Klaus moving towards the bar. “Don’t do it. Seriously.”

Klaus flaps his ‘goodbye’ hand in Ben’s direction as he gets a glass out of the cabinet and debates what to fill it up with before deciding on Tequila.

He takes a long sip and immediately feels relief from the loud voices around him. Two of which happen to belong to Diego and Luther. They never did get over that weird competitive thing they had going on, did they?

Klaus strolls into the room containing his siblings (the living ones), drink in hand, and is immediately called out to by Allison.

“Is that my skirt?” she says.

“Oh, this?” Klaus looks down at it. “Ah, yeah, yeah it is. It’s very,” he swishes his hips, “breathy on the bits.”

Allison rolls her eyes

Klaus doesn't pay Allison's annoyance any mind and flops down on the couch next to Vanya. He can at least rely on her to not start a screaming match today.

He gives her a little wave and grins in delight when she waves back.

Luther, the asshole, interrupts their moment.

“Klaus, I need you to summon Dad.”

Klaus chokes on his drink. “What?” He has to take a moment to blink the surprise out of his eyes. “Luther, my man, you know I can’t do that. I’m not in the right,” he waves his free hand, “state of mind.”

“You’re high,” Allison adds.

“Yeah! Yeah, that’s it!” Klaus nods rapidly.

“Like that's a good thing,” mumbles Ben from his spot on top of the back of a chair. Klaus shoots him a glare.

Shut up, he mouths. Ben rolls his eyes.

Klaus relaxes (as much as he can, which in this nightmare of a childhood home doesn’t amount to anything substantial) and lets himself ignore Luther and Diego’s bickering. If it gets too out of hand he can always leave.

Ben’s tapping his fingers on his thighs, drumming out a pattern that Klaus doesn't recognize. Allison is bouncing a leg, and Diego is cracking his fingers one by one even as he glares at Luther. Looks like at least half of the family received some kind of nervous tick. From Daddy Dearest and his wonderful teaching methods, Klaus is willing to bet.

Klaus himself is twirling the hem of Allison’s skirt between his fingers. Although if you think about it, it is a skirt, and it’s in his possession. Therefore, it’s Klaus’s skirt. Nice.

Then Diego gets a bit louder than he was before.

“Who cares about the damn monocle?”

“Exactly!” exclaims Luther. Here they go again. “The monocle is meaningless! Nobody cares about it. The only person who would take it is someone who couldn’t stand Dad. Someone with a grudge.” It’s clear he’s implying something, but in his muddled state Klaus can’t figure out exactly what.

Diego does, judging by the way he inhales sharply. “Are you serious?”

“No, that’s not what I-”

“Oh, I know what you meant, Number One! You think one of us killed Dad.” Diego raises his voice some more. Damn, his lung capacity really is something.

Then the words that came out of his mouth reach Klaus’s brain.

“You think that?” Klaus presses a hand to his chest. How could Luther even-

When Luther doesn’t try to defend himself something in Klaus snaps. “You really do…” He gives Ben’s angry face one glance before venturing into the unknown.

“Wow Luther, didn’t expect that from you! Well then I’ll be right back, just gotta kill Mom real quick! Don’t wait up!” He pushes himself up to his unsteady feet and walks out of the room with what he would like to think is dignity.

Holy shit, what has their family come to?

+

Klaus really wishes he wore pants. Or at least a longer skirt. It’s pretty cold outside.

Ben is standing next to his statue, staring intently up at its face. Klaus smirks. It looks nothing like him.

Diego is going on about how Dad was a piece of shit et cetera, and Klaus totally supports that. The old goatfucker can rot.

Klaus doesn’t listen to whatever Luther and Diego are shouting about this time, instead focusing on where Ben is standing. Right in front of him, a little sideways to the statue, the air is starting to glow.

“Guys-” Klaus tries to warn the others but doesn’t get the chance. There’s a loud crash and a flash of blue.

+

Luther is shouting for everybody to get behind him. For once in his life, Klaus doesn’t argue. Instead, he runs back inside to get a fire extinguisher. He dashes back outside and pushes past Luther and Diego so he can chuck it into the blue thing as hard as he can.

It immediately gets sucked into the vortex. Can he call it that? It kind of seems like a vortex.

“Why did you do that?” shouts Diego.

“I don’t know!” screams back Klaus. “You have a better idea?”

“Guys, shut up! Something’s coming through!” Klaus turns around and sure enough, a blurry figure has appeared.

It bangs its tiny fists on the other side of the blue, trying to push through the barrier between itself and them. The mouth of the figure is opened in a scream that can’t be heard over the roar of the portal.

Portal.

Hold up a second, portal as in-

The blue tears open and a kid in a sweater falls out onto the ground. A kid in a sweater with a backpack strapped to himself and messy hair and dirt under his fingernails and a chest rising up and down. He’s standing on shaky legs, panting and trying to get as much air in himself as possible.

“...Five?” mumbles Vanya in shock.

He raises his head and they can see that it is. It’s their brother, alive and in one piece, standing in front of them.

Five’s eyes cloud with tears, and he reaches up to quickly wipe them away. It doesn’t help. He stumbles and Klaus rushes forward to catch him before he hits the ground. Five’s weight is too much for Klaus to carry, so they both sink to the ground, Five silently crying in Klaus’s arms.

“Hey little buddy,” quietly says Klaus. “Where’ve you been?”

And that’s when the dam breaks.

Bizzare, isn’t it? Klaus would never think that he’d be the one trying to comfort a thirteen-year-old clutching his shirt and sobbing his eyes out.

The way the world turns, sometimes.

After a while, Five’s sobs change to muffled hiccups racking his body. Klaus rubs his hand up and down the kid’s back, trying to bring him away from another breakdown.

“Hey, you’re alright. You’re fine, I’ve got you.”

Five is still shaking now but his crying is quieter, more contained. Klaus slowly pushes himself away from Five, just far enough that he can see his face.

Five’s eyes are really red.

“Do you wanna go inside?”

Five opens his mouth, but then closes it again and nods. Klaus pulls him and himself off the ground, still holding on to Five. Ben is there too, with his hand hovering near Five’s shoulder, offering its invisible comfort.

The others are standing awkwardly back where Klaus had left them when he ran to Five.

“Come on. Kitchen’s better for this.”

For the first time in what may be ever, with a brother who has eyes that are still dripping tears and a brother who has been with him through thick and thin, Klaus leads the way.

+

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there it is, chapter three featuring five! 
> 
> as usual my tumblr is @seven-misfits and [here's](https://seven-misfits.tumblr.com/post/185115475797/watch-the-world-go-by-chapter-3-redumbrella)  
> the rebloggable version, please leave a comment! :)


	4. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> five eats some actual food. somebody get some nutrients into this child oh my god.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i update last week? i honestly can't remember
> 
> Chapter Word Count: 1948

+

Five’s head hurts. He can already feel the effects of the time travel taking place, draining him. His head hurts and his hands are shaking and breathing right now is a little harder than it should be.

It’s worth it. He would do anything, and he means anything, to get back to his family. He would kill for that. He didn’t have to.

So yes, it hurts and he feels like he’s going to pass out, but it’s all worth it. He missed their stupid, idiotic faces.

He's never going to admit it. Not out loud, at least.

God, has the floor always been this wavy or is it just him?

“Woah there, easy,” Klaus says as he pulls Five closer to him. “We don’t want you to trip and break your nose, little buddy.”

If Five were in a better state of mind, he’d snap at Klaus to not call him that. He isn’t a child.

But because he’s tired and near overwhelmed by the everything around him, he stays quiet and lets Klaus drag him into the kitchen.

His backpack is set on the floor and he’s pushed into a chair, Klaus settling in next to him. Instead of sitting normally, Klaus pulls his knees up to his chest and lets his feet rest on his chair. He turns and whispers something to Vanya, who had come in along with the rest of their siblings.

Vanya nods and walks over to the fridge to grab some peanut butter.

Holy shit. Peanut butter.

Peanut butter is a thing again. Can he say again? Technically it’s _before_ , but that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that Vanya is taking out a jar of peanut butter, bread, and _fucking hell **yes**_ marshmallows.

Five watches Vanya grab a butter knife and a cutting board. She places the slices of bread onto the board, most likely not wanting to get the table dirty. Her hands dip the knife into the jar of peanut butter and slap a glob of it onto one of the slices.

The peanut butter is spread out until its surface is smooth, and then the marshmallows. Oh god, Five has missed marshmallows so much. He’s never even really liked them, it was always more about the texture and the aftertaste they left in his mouth. But right now, all he can see are those little glorious blobs of pure sugar.

Vanya hands him a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich.

Five doesn’t thank her, doesn’t take the time to make sure that it’s edible, doesn’t criticize her poor sandwich-making-skills. (Vanya always does this _thing_ with her wrist when she smears spreads or pastes onto bread. Five has never been able to point out exactly what it is she is doing, but it irks him to this day.)

Five just grabs onto that sandwich like it’s a fucking _lifeline_ , and shoves as much as he can in his mouth without choking.

He chews and lets the flavor of _actual food_ wash over him, and he still can’t believe it, even as it’s right there, _right there in front of him_. Five hasn’t eaten anything like this for about two years, so he’s damn well going to let himself enjoy this.

“Wow,” Two mumbles. Five notices that everybody is staring at him in awe, and oh, he should probably slow down, shouldn’t he? “Just how long has it been since you’ve eaten?”

Having to chew and swallow the sticky sandwich gives Five enough time to make sure his answer is as accurate as possible.

“About a week,” he mumbles.

“A week?” squeaks Vanya. “You haven’t eaten in a week?”

Five nods.

Allison pushes forward so she’s almost as close to Five as Klaus is. “What was the last thing you ate then?”

Five has to think for a moment, before settling on, “I don’t know.” He takes another bite of the sandwich. “Bugs or canned corn, probably.”

“Bugs… Or canned corn.”

“Mhm. I’d say bugs though. Canned corn’s too important to eat all the time.”

“What does that even mean?” Klaus throws his hands up. Everybody has been inching closer to Five since he started talking, and it’s a little uncomfortable.

“It means that canned food is scarce and I can’t waste it.” A thought crosses Five’s mind, and even though it has no relation to what they’re talking about it’s important enough to voice. “What’s the date, by the way? The exact date.”

"The twenty-fourth," Luther pipes up.

"Of what?"

"March," supplies Two.

Five quickly does the math in his head. "Guess I missed the old man's funeral. We still have time though. Not enough of it, but we've got time."

"What is he saying?" Klaus whispers to the air. Probably to some ghost.

(Five doesn't let himself assume that it's one certain ghost. He can't get his hopes up. He'll have to ask Klaus later, when they're alone.)

“Diego, do you know what he’s saying?”

"I'm saying that we have eight days to stop the world from ending." Five suddenly decides that he's not as hungry now as he was a couple of minutes ago. He places the sandwich down on the table, to finish later.

No way he's wasting food.

"What." Two (Diego) runs a hand through his (his not her) hair. "W-what the fuck."

Five shrugs. There’s really not much to say.

“How do you even know about this?” Luther says.

“I time traveled to the future. It’s shit, by the way.” Five ignores Klaus’s triumphant cry of _‘called it!’_

If there’s anything he’d prefer not to do right now, it’s talking about this. Sadly, it’s inevitable.

"Wait wait wait." Klaus flaps his hand at Five. "What type of end of the world are we talking about here?"

"The apocalypse. What else would it be?"

"Well I don't know! There are probably different kinds of apocalypses, right?" He addresses the last word to the air.

(The ghost, Five thinks. He's talking to a ghost.)

"Yeah, see? So what's it gonna be, Fivey?"

Five sighs. No turning back now.

"There was a lot of fire. Rubble. Just your standard ‘everybody’s dead and everything’s in ruins’ apocalypse.”

“How long were you there?” asks Vanya, and Five remembers that she’s always been one of the smart ones. “I mean, you certainly seem to know a lot about it.”

Before Five can answer, Klaus throws his hands up again. “Oh! Were you there for like, forty years? Are you an old man now? An old man addicted to coffee?”

“What?” Five wants to roll his eyes until he can see the back of his skull. “No. I was there for less than two years. One year eight months or something like that.”

“Oh.” Klaus lets his hands drop. Five notices that they’ve got tattoos. Words that he can’t make out because Klaus is moving too quickly.

“So wait, does that mean you’re actually fifteen?” Diego asks.

“No. Yes. Ugh.”

“Five, that isn’t an answer.” Luther crosses his arms. Great, he’s still a prick. At least Five can be sure one thing stayed the same.

“My consciousness is fifteen.” Because Five knows that some of the people he’s talking to won’t understand him and he’s too tired to explain it twice, he decides to simplify it for his family. “Which means that mentally, I’m fifteen. About. I don’t actually know my exact age. But physically, I’m thirteen now, I guess. I knew I should’ve taken longer with the equations,” he mutters the last part to himself.

“Woah.” Klaus is still really close to Five.

“Sure. Woah. But that’s not important. We need to stop the apocalypse.”

“Yeah, you know Five, I’m all for stopping the end of the world and everything, but there’s no way you’re going anywhere right now,” Allison says.

“What?” hisses Five.

“You heard me. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Why? The sooner we start-”

“Yeah okay, that would be correct if not for you just admitting to not eating for a week,” interrupts Klaus. “And to living in the apocalypse,” he starts counting on his fingers, “eating literal bugs, which is super gross by the way, and also you’re pretty much on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion. Which you nearly did when you appeared here out of nowhere. You need to sleep.”

“I didn’t know you could be responsible,” Diego mutters. Klaus presses a hand to his chest.

“Excuse you! I can too be responsible!”

“Sure, whatever. Klaus is right though, Five. I don’t care that we need to stop the apocalypse, that can wait until morning,” Diego cuts off Five’s noise of disagreement with a raised hand. “No arguing. You need to recharge. So right now we’re dragging you to bed and making sure you get at least nine hours of sleep. Then in the morning, we can talk about the apocalypse.”

“Fine.” Five slouches down in his seat.

“Great. Now finish your sandwich.”

+

After Five is done with his food, he’s pulled into his old room by Allison and Klaus to find him some clean clothes. When she sees that the only items in his closet are the standard three variations of the Academy uniform, Allison immediately announces that they’re going on a shopping trip.

Klaus claps his hands and cheers.

“Why do we need to go on a _shopping trip?_ ” complains Five.

“Because you need clothes,” Allison says. “Besides, it’s not like we’re going today. You still need to sleep, but tomorrow in the morning we can take an hour or two to go to the mall.”

Five doesn’t find it in himself to argue.

“Oh, Allison, can I come with? I need a new coat.”

Allison rolls her eyes. “Sure, Klaus. Might as well buy you a skirt too, so you stop stealing mine.”

Klaus smiles and does one of his little shakes, the one where his shoulders go back and forth and his fingers flail out.

Five thinks that from what he’s seen so far, Klaus is the one who’s changed the least.

Not that he hasn’t changed, because he has. He looks different, and the smell of alcohol on his breath is more evident than two years ago. Or sixteen, if you look at it from their perspective. Klaus still has his messy hair, even though it’s longer now. He still has the manic smile he used to creep out the press, except now he uses it when there’s nobody recording him.

Klaus’s clothing is unusual, but not surprising. They weren't allowed to wear things other than the uniform at the Academy, but Five thinks that Klaus back then would love to wear what’s on him now.

Klaus radiates this weird aura, and maybe it’s because of the ghosts or the drugs, but to Five, he seems loose. Like a thread on a sweater that doesn’t fit anymore but you love it too much to throw it away.

They were all that one sweater, old and worn but still held on to. They all held on to each other, and they were all each other's sweaters.

He’s really taking this metaphor too far, isn’t he.

“He, Five, you okay there?”

Five blinks and realizes that he receded back into his head. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… zoned out, I guess.”

Klaus hums. “I really think you should go to sleep, Five.”

Five opens his mouth to argue, but then he realizes just how tired he is. He’s tired and he wants to sleep.

And for the first time in nearly two years, he has a place to sleep safely.

“Yeah,” he says. “Okay.”

Five falls asleep with a pillow under his head and a blanket wrapped around his body that night.

+

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uuuh so yeah. this chapter was a bit later than usual, sorry about that. my internet has been shit the past couple days and my computer's glitching and doing this thing where it doesn't show me any of what i have open. :/ it's very annoying and i don't like it  
> (edit: my dad fixed my computer so life is okay again. i had to do a factory reset on my phone to get the internet back to normal so that's less okay. all's well now.)
> 
> i should really stop using so many italics, i keep having to go back and add them in. 
> 
> writing five mentally waxing poetic about a pb&and j marshmallow sandwich was great
> 
> AND BEFORE I FORGET: i made a post on tumblr about this but DO Y'ALL WANT DAVE. because i want dave and there will be dave, but do you want him to be eudora's partner or a paramedic. because i've seen both and hhh i can't decide. tell me in the comments or [here's](https://seven-misfits.tumblr.com/post/185208666187/dave) the post  
> (second edit: so far cop dave is outweighing paramedic dave, so please tell me your opinions on the matter)
> 
> but yeah! that was chapter four. as always, you can find me on tumblr @seven-misfits


	5. Ben

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *clenches fist* i really love ben a lot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slaps roof of fictional character* this bad boy can fit in so much self-projection
> 
> there was like no proofreading done for this chapter so sorry for the errors. also there's so much dialogue hhh 
> 
> word count: 1247

  
“Klaus.” Ben rolls his eyes and floats himself over to sit on the table. “Stop it.”

Klaus’ hands don’t quit rummaging through the desk drawers. “Benny, don’t, and I say this with love! Don’t tell me what to do.”

“You can’t just go and get high, Klaus!”

“Sure I can,” Klaus says. “If I can find something to pawn off. Or drugs. Ooh, wouldn’t that be funny, if I found something like _drugs_ in daddy’s desk. Absolutely hilarious.”

“Stop,” Ben repeats. “You can’t get high. Not now.”

Klaus stops slamming drawers and turns his tired slightly manic gaze to Ben. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t smoke a shit ton of weed right now and pass out, Ben.”

“Five.”

“What?”

Ben takes what would have been a deep breath if he could breathe. “You have to stay sober. If not for you, or for me, then for Five.”

Klaus tilts his head, confusion mixed with denial written across his face. “Why would I stay sober for Five?”

“Because he’s your brother!” Ben throws his hands up. “He’s your little brother and maybe you’re too dumb to notice it, but he’s scared!”

“Five’s never scared,” snorts Klaus.

“Yeah, well that was two years ago, for him.”

“So?” Klaus’ fingers twitch and start reaching for the drawers again.

“He’s a kid.” The fingers freeze.

“O… Kay?”

Ben pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “He fifteen, Klaus. He’s a scared little kid, and it’ll hurt him so much if the next time he sees you you’re high as a kite.”

“Ugh,” groans Klaus. “Why are you so fucking annoying?”

“Annoying how? By being right? Look, he just came back from spending two years in an apocalyptic wasteland. Even if he wasn’t so young, there’s bound to be some sort of trauma from that.”

Klaus huffs and drops into Reginald’s chair. “Screw you.”

Because Ben's a nice person, he doesn't say that he knows Klaus was toning down himself to be little more kid-friendly to Five out loud.

+

“Really?” Ben falls through the couch. “I was sitting there!”

Diego, of course, doesn’t hear him.

“Ugh. Well if you don’t mind, I’m going to stay here.”

Ben walks back around to the front of the couch and sits down next to him. Diego’s sitting with his face cupped in his palms and his elbows resting on his knees. His lips are moving silently, words forming but not leaving his lips.

“So, how do you feel about Five coming back?”

  
Diego, of course, doesn’t answer.

“I think that he’s lucky. It’s like Klaus said, he could’ve taken a lot longer. He could’ve been an old man right now.”

Diego takes out a knife and starts playing with it, flipping it into the air and catching it. The lamplight glints off of the edge of the blade. Ben watches it, letting the world around him lose focus until all he can see is the blade falling through the air.

Up and down. Up. Down.

Ben used to do this a lot when he was alive, too. Lose focus on everything but a single object or sound and stay like that until something snaps him back.

It was usually the clicking of Mom’s heels on the wooden floor or the thud of feet running through the halls. Sometimes what pulled him back was Klaus or Diego touching his shoulder, asking if he was okay.

Five never did that. He always sat next to Ben and just… existed, with him. In silence. Sometimes he watched what Ben was focused on, and sometimes he took out a book and read.

Ben missed Five.

He gently pulls himself out of his thoughts until he can see Diego’s face again.

“You’re lucky, I think.” Ben folds his hands behind his head and leans onto the back of the couch. He doesn’t bother fully opening his eyes, instead letting his eyelids lower halfway. Diego’s eyebrows are knotted together, and he’s still flipping his knife.

“You get to talk to him. Although it must be hard for you.” Ben rolls his head back and looks up at the ceiling. “He only knows old you, I guess. Not you-you. Same thing for Klaus, I guess. And me. But you don’t know that.”

He lets out a weary sigh. "It's hard, Dee."

They sit like that, Diego and Ben. Two and Six. Alive and dead.

They sit, and Ben thinks and floats in the endless expanse of his thoughts. Ben closes his eyes.

+

When he wakes up, Diego is gone. Ben sits up and rubs at his eyes, trying to get rid of the bleariness.

Technically, he shouldn’t be able to sleep, being dead and all. But technically he shouldn’t have an interdimensional monster-summoning portal in his stomach either.

And yet.

There are many things that should be completely impossible. Not needing to breathe. Warping reality. Time travel.

But for every impossible thing, there’s always something that contradicts it. Something that will raise its chin and gaze off the cliffside into the unknown, and whisper into the wind:

And yet.

That’s their family. A cluster of “and yets” glued together with shared trauma and abnormalities.

But he digresses.

It’s late or early, depending on how you look at it, and Ben can hear Klaus rummaging through the fridge in the kitchen. Ben pulls himself up and stretches his arms out over his head. Then he gets off the couch and walks over to where Klaus is.

Klaus is deep in the fridge, so he doesn't notice Ben, who quietly hops onto one of the counters and makes himself comfortable. Klaus pulls stuff out of the fridge, piling food and water onto the counter.

“What’s with all this?”

Klaus jumps up and nearly hits his head on the fridge, then turns around and scowls at Ben. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“You know what, Ben.”

Ben leans his elbow on his knee and cups his face in his palm. “No, I don’t know. Enlighten me.”

Klaus throws his head back and groans. “I’m too sober for this.”

"Which is clearly not enough," mumbles Ben.

"Hey." Klaus throws a sharp glare at him. "Shut up."

"Nope," Ben says, popping the 'p'. "I guess being around you for so long has its side effects."

"Well, I never-”

“So,” cuts him off Ben. “I see you haven’t taken anything yet, huh?”

Klaus knows exactly what he’s doing. He crosses his arms and leans against the still open fridge. “So? Maybe I just didn’t feel like it.”

“‘Course. You might want to close the fridge.”

“Ugh! Why are you so annoying today?” Klaus says, as he slams the fridge door shut with his foot.

“That’s what you say every day,” points out Ben.

“Yeah, and coming from me, that should really tell you something.”

Ben snorts. That’s true enough.

“Well, brother dearest, would you like to join me in the making of this sandwich?” Klaus exclaims, dropping the previous string of conversation. “My tummy’s a-rumblin’.”

  
“Sure,” says Ben. “But only if you make some for later, too.”

  
Klau presses a hand to his chest and gasps. “Of course, who do you take me for?”

Ben smiles and rolls his eyes. Klaus is an idiot, but he’s Ben’s idiot. That has to mean something, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i~ ran out~ of prewritten~ chapters~~ so i'll have to take the time to actually ~~write~~ :/ the next update may be in two weeks instead of one, but i'm also moving. so i'd say don't get your hopes too high up for updates earlier than three weeks from now. if i do manage to update, it probably won't be on schedule and reeeally random (pls note that i'll still be updating/posting other things if i finish them, i just need to get my butt in gear and work on this fic in particular. i keep getting distracted and writing other stuff lol)
> 
> but yeah! i love my boy ben he's an angel. half of my writing is just taking the weird/not normal things i do that i've got no explanation for and handing them out to my fave characters. also i write weird metaphors/get distracted with what i am writing. you could read through my writing and point out exactly where i felt poetic and got carried away lol
> 
> tumblr is @seven-misfits


	6. Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :/

I'm sorry. Not sorry that I'm doing this, but sorry I saying it like this.

This fic is now being rewritten. Yeah. I didn't like the length of my chapters, and really how I wrote it soo...

Sorry. I'm going to post it under a different name, which will be linked here when I decide what it is and start posting. 

I hope y'all stick around to see it. Cheers to you guys for lasting this long, ha. 

Until next time, i guess.

 

EDIT: The new name is going to be Through Bushes And Briars, so keep an eye out for that! I have it planned out until chapter nine, but as of now I want to at least write the first five or so chapters before I start posting it.

EDIT EDIT: because im nice heres the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19479124

also i only have the first four chapters written, but oh well i guess there will just be irregular updates

**Author's Note:**

> *adjusts moustache* why yes indeed, it seems that I am completely disregarding most of the very important details of the show. Yes indeed. 
> 
> I didn't remember the actual dialogue or order of events in the show, so everything I write is out of order and incorrect. Some of the things I thought were funny or I just happened to remember the gist of them I kept. But this work is not 100% canon compliant (duh). 
> 
> I know you, as a reader, probably hear this a lot, but comments are what keeps us, as authors, going. And if you're also an author on here, that's great! You understand why comments are so important. So please, leave a comment.
> 
> I'm on tumblr @seven-misfits
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


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